


the worst friend ever

by bluejane



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: -Ish, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Grand Prix Final, lol i upped the rating bc of swear words but that's it, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-02 19:59:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11516391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluejane/pseuds/bluejane
Summary: The Sochi Grand Prix Final banquet was catastrophic, and it had one too many casualties, like Yuri Plisetsky's humongous ego.In his process of healing, Yuri decided to hold a grudge against Mila, who was the worst friend ever. However, after stumbling upon the hashtag #SupportMilaBabicheva on Twitter, Yuri found that Mila was one of the casualties, too.





	the worst friend ever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merit/gifts).



> Let's have a #throwback to the Sochi banquet!
> 
> Hi Merit, thank you for all those wonderful prompts. The exact moment I read "Mila wants to adopt a cat and Yuri is very serious about cat ownership," I banged my fist on the table and said, "Amen." And then I read that you liked hurt/comfort, so I thought, oh why the hell not? How the hell do these two #stressedt kids cope with sadness, anyway?
> 
> I hope you'll like it <3

Despite having won gold, Yuri didn’t feel like celebrating.

First of all, the snow conversed with him from outside his window. It drifted down aimlessly, glittering against the early morning sun: bright and pretty, but without purpose. _You’re just like me,_ it seemed to say. Yuri wants to tell it to fuck off.

Second, there was no one he could bitch to about these shitty emotions.

Consistent with his unfortunate semblance to snow, Yuri thought himself to be cold and merciless. People could barely tolerate the cold, let alone the merciless. The only creature who could was not a person, and she was idling around miles away in grandpa’s home. Damn it, he missed his cat.

Third, he was kinda holding a grudge against the only person he wanted to bitch to.

After announcing in the presscon that she and her boyfriend had broken up before her skate, a Twitter post emerged, claiming that fans saw her was crying during the performance. The figure skating community had even made up a hashtag called “#SupportMilaBabicheva.”

This whole ordeal seemed like a slap in Yuri’s face because Mila didn’t even think to turn to him. He thought they were supposed to be friends! Or something. Comrades. Allies. Whatever. Instead, last night, she totally ignored him. And in the latter part of the night, became an active participant in humiliating him.

The memory of last night’s banquet stuck with him like the cat fur on his favorite cotton shirts. The humiliation, most of all, left a bitter taste on his tongue that he can’t seem to get rid of, even after a copious amount of brushing.

Just as he was ready to bury himself deeper in self-pity, his phone rang. “What’s up, hag?”

“Are you in your room?” Mila’s voice was hoarse, probably scratched raw from too much squealing last night. Yuri frowned as he remembered how enthusiastic Mila was as she pushed him to participate in that goddamn dance-off and even videotaping tons of footage.

“The fuck do you want?”

When Mila spoke again, a burst of guilt lanced through him. Even if she always unreasonably teased Yuri to the end of his wits, she was still a friend. Probably the only friend he’s got. Her voice hitched and trembled towards the end as she said, “I want to adopt a cat today.”

Yuri bit his tongue to keep himself from saying anything more stupid, so he said, “Why in Satan’s name would you want to adopt a cat, and on an impulse, no less? Do you think you can handle a responsibility as huge as that?” Surely, Mila saw his point. Adopting any pet, let alone a cat, was a huge deal, and must not be decided on a whim.

Before Yuri had gotten his cat, Potya, he’d had months and months of preparation. He’d spent that time asking grandpa to help him budget fees according to their present income, had badgered Yakov to schedule reasonable times when he can bring his pet to the rink, and had listened to his mother nag about cleaning his room through a shitty internet connection.

God. He’d endured all those months of listening to his elders, just so he could prepare to adopt a cat. Not only that, he’d also spent all that time into making sure his prospective pet had a name to befit her personality.

Story short, Puma Tiger Scorpion had a perfectly prepared household before she became a part of Yuri’s life. It’s what every cat deserves.

Which is why Yuri couldn’t just tolerate Mila’s sudden decision.

Naturally, because Yuri’s wisdom was just too much for everyone, Mila hung up on him.

Yuri stared at his phone screen. With a huff, he sat up from where he was lounging on his bed. He tried calling Mila again, maybe to apologize, but more likely, to yell more. But, with no luck. The operator’s voice begged him to just leave a message, but Yuri wasn’t sure Mila would understand what he meant if he just left it in the fucking voicemail. 

The room where Mila was staying in was only two doors away, and it took great pains for Yuri to swallow his pride, drag his feet out the door, and bang it shut with purpose. 

After stomping towards Mila’s room, he yelled. “Let me in this goddamn door or I swear to god I’m kicking it down!”

“Go away!” came Mila’s screech from the other side of the door.

“I have to talk to you, you unthinking swine!”

“I said go away! I don’t need you.”

“I’m your only cat-owner friend. There’s so much you got to learn from me!” Yuri banged the door. “I said open up!”

“Fuck off!”

Steam blew from Yuri’s ears, the blood blooming in his cheeks. “Fine! But don’t blame me if you end up ruining that poor cat’s life.”

It took Yuri several loud stomps down the hallway and one deafening banging shut of his own door before he realized that Mila hadn’t explicitly stated that she was going to get a cat, only that she wanted to.

He flopped back down his bed and let out a growl. Now he truly had no one else to bitch to.

*****

Dinner that night was uneventful, a stark contrast to yesterday’s banquet. Yakov punctuated the tense silence with barks of skating advice, usually followed suit by Viktor’s polite comments. Georgi made inappropriate jokes that only Viktor seemed to appreciate, and Mila refused to look at anyone on the table, not even Yuri. Her eyes were downcast, red-rimmed and swollen. Her food remained untouched.

Yuri felt the guilt eating away at his full stomach, but he didn’t let himself be swallowed by it. After all, he was having a bad day too.

“You don’t have to look at me like that.”

Yuri almost jumped at Mila’s voice from beside him. It was raspy like a grandma’s. Yuri felt the need to scratch his own throat. “Look at you like what?”

“Like I’m the most pathetic thing on this entire planet.”

The hushed conversation on their table fell to a lull as Mila’s tears ran down her cheeks like a leaky faucet. Her barely concealed sobs laid the atmosphere thick once more.

Yuri glanced around at their table, unsure of what to do. He had never seen Mila cry before. He himself had never cried in front of people, or at the very least he did his best not to. Locking eyes with Viktor, he sent him a telepathic message, _What the fuck do I do?_ with a raised eyebrow and and wide, confused eyes.

Instead of answering, Viktor’s lips quivered, tears flowing unbidden from his eyes. The poor guy didn’t even seem to realize that he’s crying. Yuri wanted to scream, _You’re not helping, fucker!_ What the fuck? Were the tears airborne or something?

Desperate, Yuri turned to Yakov, who was frowning at Georgi, who was starting to bawl. “Why is everybody crying! Tears make me cry, could you please stop--” 

Yakov looked across the table at Yuri and flashed him a quick look, a look that said, _Comfort her, you useless brat!_ and hesitatingly wound his arm around the crying Viktor. Upon receiving the touch, Viktor sobbed harder and pressed his face against Yakov’s neck.

Voice muffled by Yakov's scarf, Viktor lamented, “I hate banquets. I’ll never attend banquets ever again.”

“Me too!” Mila said through her ugly tears. “They’re the worst. It’s just full of fake people scrambling all over the place.”

Yuri didn’t understand. Last night, Mila had taken part in making the banquet the worst night of Yuri’s life, ever. Viktor himself showed outright support against him in the dance-off. A competition which, to Yuri’s utter dismay and humiliation, he lost.

So was this karma of some sort?

Yuri, at least, liked to think so. Still, it didn’t stop him from getting bothered about their distress when they were so clearly having so much fun during the banquet. 

With a wry grin plastered across his face, Yuri snaked an arm around Mila’s trembling shoulders, copying what Yakov did with Viktor. He was burning with the urge to say something cheesy to Mila like, _Hey, you’re not pathetic or stupid or anything, you’re actually pretty cool and nothing, not even the results of the Grand Prix Final nor your bad taste in men don’t change that,_ but he held his tongue. Such frivolous attempts at comforting might only make matters worse, especially because Yuri has never done this before. Instead, he stroked Mila’s hair like how he stroked Potya’s fur when he’s coaxing her to a state of relaxation and calm.

Unfortunately, Georgi also sat beside him, which meant he was very much vulnerable to another teary cuddle. Georgi saw the opening and barrelled straight into Yuri’s free arm.

He gulped, staring at Yakov wordlessly from across the table. A wide-eyed _What the fuck do I do?_ screaming in his eyes.

Yakov shrugged with his free shoulder and squeezed Viktor’s shoulder. “Alright, all of you. Bedtime.”

The night ended with his shirt soaked through like he just came in from a storm.

Against better judgment, he allowed himself to indulge in a much needed crying jag, letting the bitter memories from last night’s banquet wash over him.

Yuri woke to the sounds of quick-paced knocks on his door. Kicking the sheets to the floor, Yuri sat up on his bed and called “Yeah, I’m awake.” He kept his eyes shut, an unwilling participant to another mundane day.

“Well get the fuck up and meet me out here.” Mila’s voice bellowed from the door. “I’m starving.”

He tore his eyes open, reaching for his phone by the bed. He grumbled, “It’s three in the morning.” Apparently, he received a grand total of two missed calls from Mila before the had decided to come bang on his door instead.

Mila responded by knocking again in an annoying rhythm. _Bang ba-dang ba-dang-dang._ “Yuri, come on.”

Weighing his options, he forewent his better judgment and snatched the black leather jacket from his chair before heading out his door in his leopard-print pajamas. Outside, Mila was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. She was wearing a thick dark wool coat over a lavender nightgown, scowling down at Yuri.

“Why do you have to force me to join your suffering?” Yuri grumbled, donning his jacket. “I wasn’t the one who didn’t touch the food all evening.”

“I’m not going to say I’m sorry. You didn’t even apologize to me when you screamed at me when I needed you most.”

“Are you shitting me. Were you actually serious about adopting a cat?”

Mila walked at a fast pace, and Yuri almost had to break into a run so that he could catch up. “I am. I’m getting her this weekend.”

“What?!” Yuri came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the hallway. “You can’t just--you’re--”

“Look, my father’s friend’s co-worker has a whole household of cats, and he said I should probably adopt one of them to make more way for posterity.”

“And you said yes.”

“Of course I did. You have to understand how I felt, Yura. These are cats. You know, if your grandpa wanted to give you away, I’d want to adopt you, too.”

**********

“Do you want to see pictures of Potya?” He asked Mila, across their tubs of ice cream. Mila had insisted that they get comfort food instead of what Yuri dubbed as ‘real food,’ for the mere reason that Mila needed ice cream to feel better.

Ice cream leaking from her face, Mila nodded with surprising enthusiasm. Grinning, Yuri opened his phone’s gallery and handed it to Mila’s waiting hand.

Stars appeared in her eyes -- literally. Mila’s gloom seemed to have faded, falling away into the dusty pavements of Sochi, like some cremated remains. Browsing through Yuri’s phone, Mila asked, “What’s it like to have her?”

“Like I could count on exactly one creature on this planet to never leave my side and love me unconditionally.” Yuri announced with a huff of pride in his voice that he’d never expected to hear from himself.

“Don’t you have people like that? People who you know that will always have your back no matter how many times you screw up?” Mila looked at him with preening interest. Yuri had never noticed, but in normal days, Mila always looked at him that, like whatever kind of shit would fall out from his mouth would be fascinating. Thinking back, Yuri realized that this must be one of the reasons why he loved babbling to Mila.

Suppressing a smile, Yuri shrugged. There was grandpa, of course, and … okay, even Yakov. Except those two express their love for him in contrasting ways. And then there’s Mila.

Mila, who had crept up on him through years of training together, the only one other human being who treated his voice as if it were something to be heard. Sure, she made fun of him sometimes but …

Did Mila secretly put something in his ice cream when he wasn’t looking? He wasn’t usually this sappy.

Anyway. He won’t say any of those things out loud anyway.

“A few,” he answers, Viktor-Nikiforov-style--evasive but not untrue. He pats himself on the back mentally for sounding like a rock star while he was at it. “Look, let's not talk about me right now. I think we both agree that the more pressing issue here is yours. Rumors float, but I wanna hear the whole story from you.”

“It wasn’t just because of the breakup.”

“So was it something that happened at the after? That would be weird considering you were having so much fun mocking me at the banquet.”

Mila averted her eyes. The chocolate chips in her mint ice cream seemed suddenly interesting to her.

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Aw come on. Stop making me guess.”

She mumbled something incoherent. Something about rejection, perhaps, but Yuri couldn’t be so sure, so he said, “Oi, speak up!”

“I said Sara turned me down.”

“Sara what? Who?” Yuri ran the names of the women figure skaters in his mind. “Wait. That Italian skater you lost to?” Yuri repressed the urge to laugh at her, but he couldn’t contain the snort that bubbled up his nose, until it grew to full-on laughter. He felt the ice cream scratch at his throat but he couldn’t stop the guffaw that escalated.

He pursed his lips, tears leaking from his eyes, and found Mila staring daggers at him.

“That was the single most stupid post-Grand Prix humiliation I’ve ever heard. What even made you think that she would be into you?”

Mila’s nose flared. Huffing out a breath, she pushed out of her chair and started to walk towards the exit.

“Oh shit. Mila, wait!” Yuri stood and ran towards Mila’s retreating figure, catching her wrist and giving it a sharp yank. “I didn’t mean to say that. I was … my emotions were … passionate.”

Mila snatched her hand back. “So you’re so passionate about making fun of me?”

“Hey, now. You made fun of me at that banquet too. Let’s call it a truce, yeah?”

Mila shut her eyes and brought her fingers to the bridge of her nose, pinching. “You … you--”

“Okay how about,” Yuri offered up a hand, “we buy some snacks and then we can take a ride back to the hotel and you can just … bitch to me, or whatever. Then I’ll tell you everything you need to make sure of before you adopt that cat of yours.”

Mila frowned, mouth downturned in an ugly curve. Then she shook Yuri’s hand. “Fine. But only for the sake of the cat.”

**********

The snow began falling again outside, and the ice cream they just ate wasn’t helping. They both ended up huddled beside each other on the cozy sofa in Mila’s room, covered in one blanket. They were drinking hot chocolate with marshmallows and watching an old film which served no other purpose than to keep them company.

“So she just told you that she’s … what? Seeing someone else? Too busy for other commitments outside of skating?”

“Nah. She didn’t exactly reject me like that outright, but I saw her gawking at your crush’s ass and I thought, meh. That makes sense.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow. “My crush?”

“Katsuki. Oh come on, Yura. Anyone who had eyes understood your motives for joining him on that dance floor. I cheered for you quite loudly, too.”

“You cheered …” Yuri sighed, taking a loud sip of chocolate and deciding to let it go. Before he could berate himself for being as transparent as everyone else, he said, “At least that took your mind off that asshole boyfriend of yours, huh?”

“I was planning to take my mind off him permanently, you know.”

“And then Sara stared at Katsuki’s ass. Which you took as a rejection.”

“I was so embarrassed. But then again, I figured she had great taste.. She was crushing on someone you have a crush on, after all.”

“You know what I think?” Yuri set his mug down the glass table by their feet, the marshmallows bouncing over the water’s surface. “I think you overreacted. You should probably try asking her out. Verbally, next time. And not get scared when she stares at some other hot piece of meat, ‘cause everybody does that.”

“What you’re saying is that I should take a leap of faith.”

“Yeah. Like challenge her in a dance-off maybe, and find out if she has feelings for other people. And have her hump at the person her feelings are directed towards. That way, you’ll really get to confirm that she’s never gonna be into you.”

Mila blinked at her. “Speaking from experience.”

“Straight from my snow-cold heart.” Yuri huddled closer. 

“You’re not as cold as you think you think you look, Yura.” Mila snaked an arm around Yuri’s shoulders and squeezed. “You’re one of the cutest, cuddliest--”

“I swear to god if you finish that fucking sentence, I will shove these marshmallows down your throat and your poor kitten will never get adopted.”

Mila didn’t even flinch from his words, just sipped loudly at her hot chocolate without removing her other arm from Yuri’s shoulders. “Do you think I need to buy a scratch post before I take her in?”

“Yeah, you could. But she’ll probably scratch at your things anyway.”

They remained nestled together like that, talking mostly about cats and cat care and cat naming. Mila had even suggested to call her cat “Yura,” an idea that was promptly shut down by Yuri himself.

Outside, the snow began to fall again, thick sheets of it swaying down the window. “I love the snow,” Mila sighed, as they concluded that Mila should postpone giving her cat an official name. She had to see the cat first, and the sight of it could trigger an appropriate name from her head.

“Why? It’s pretty but it doesn’t exactly have a purpose.”

“It’s cool.”

Yuri retrieved his mug. It was no longer hot, but it was still something to sip. He shrugged and stared at the boring movie. “I guess.”

“You know that even if I make fun of you sometimes, I still think you’re one of the coolest people I’ve ever been friends with, right?”

“I wish you wouldn’t make fun of me.”

“But what would your excuse be in calling me a bitch if I didn’t tease you every once in a while?” Mila leaned forward and looked at him, mischief glinting in her eyes.

It must be the beguiling darkness of dawn that made Yuri say the words he’d sworn never to say out loud. But Mila had said that snow was cool, and everyday, he’d always felt a little bit like snow. Yuri thought, well, perhaps feeling like snow doesn’t seem so bad now. “To be honest, you’re definitely the coolest person I’ve ever met. ‘Cept when you make fun of me.”

Mila’s eyes glistened in the soft light of the television. She smiled, her expression the softest that Yuri’s ever seen her wear. “Maybe I don’t have to adopt a cat anymore. I already have a kitten.”

Yuri thrashed in their shared space and screams. “You’re the worst bitch.”

“Aww! I love you, too.”

Before erupting into full-on rage, Yuri looked at Mila. Really looked. Her eyes were no longer sunken and empty like a ghost’s. Hearing her giggle again made Yuri’s heart clench. This was the girl who, last night, had sobbed helplessly in his chest and provoked another two grown men to cry.

Despite being made fun of, Yuri didn’t feel angry at all.

But it’s not like he was going to let Mila know that, so he said, “If you don’t stop laughing at me, I’ll never help you with naming your cat!”

***********

They both stayed up until the sun emerged in the sky, allowing the snow to glitter, dancing as it fell. They hadn’t settled on a name yet, but it hadn’t seemed like such a pressing issue.

When it was time for them to check out from their hotel, their coach called their phones, all of which went straight to their voicemails. Yakov took it upon himself to barge into their rooms, only to find them both in Mila’s, with the morning light washing over their innocent faces.

Yakov found them like that, Yuri asleep in Mila’s lap and her fingers threaded in Yuri’s hair.

When they finally emerged out of the room later that afternoon, Yakov waved off their half-hearted apologies and gave them an embrace that took them all by surprise before finally saying goodbye.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank the infinite heavens for Mila and Yuri's beautiful friendship, and Merit's lovely prompts for it!
> 
> Also sending millions of thanks to my betas, Zabelle and Lee, the most wonderful creatures in this planet. Stars know that I never would've finished anything without your moral support.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed reading!
> 
> [edit 4/18/2018 - I am on a seemingly permanent hiatus on Twitter so I found it appropriate to remove the link here]


End file.
